So, the royal baby has arrived. First Kim Kardashian, now Dutchess Kate. I get to watch through green-tinted lenses as the entire free world celebrates the birth of one baby.
Don't get me wrong, I am glad Kate had a healthy, happy baby boy. I am glad she and William are able to bring him home where he belongs. No mother should be where I am, and I am relieved she does not have to go through this pain - especially under the hot lights of press cameras and media scrutiny. She was able to have what most mothers do. She was one of the lucky ones.
Meanwhile, the unlucky have to sit and watch. When we turn on the television or open a magazine, we are slapped in the face. Forced to see what we cannot have. There will be adorable photos released. Probably with the baby in her arms while the two parents gaze adoringly down at him. The media will scurry to capture him learning to crawl, his first words, his first steps. He will be celebrated beyond measure. The whole world will know him and watch him grow.
Meanwhile, I scream at the top of my lungs for someone to recognize my baby. Meanwhile, I have to accept that no one will know her - no one will watch her grow. The only thing keeping her memory alive is me and the small circle of family and friends who put in the effort to do it with me - possibly the occasional passerby of my blog.
It's hard to see other people so effortlessly have what I do not. It's hard to see so much attention showered on someone - attention my baby should have received, but did not. I don't wish anyone ill will. I don't mean to complain, but it's tough. It taps that knife in a little deeper.
I suppose I'm just feeling extra sensitive today. I miss her so much. I want to kiss her cheeks and nuzzle her belly. I want to watch her try to crawl. I just hope Kate never takes even one second of her life with her son for granted.